by Skye Jordan
Dirtiest Little Secret
Skye Jordan
Copyright © 2017 by Skye Jordan
This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locations are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in encouraging piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
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Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
About the Author
Also by Skye Jordan
1
Hedonism, where people come from all over the world to live out their fantasies.
Ava Jennings pulled the color brochure from her office printer and swiveled in her chair to face her desk. A shaky breath exited her lungs. Not a sigh of relief, but of… Of what? Excitement or trepidation?
Her office door popped open, startling Ava. She dropped the brochure and shuffled a file folder to cover it. When she focused on the person standing there, Ava found Katie, one of her best girlfriends. After attending the same college, Katie and Ava had ended up in Manhattan together working on different floors of the same building.
“Ready to go?” Katie asked, sliding into a chair across from Ava’s desk.
“Not quite.” She straightened the papers. “You got here fast. Why don’t I meet you at the bar?”
Katie’s blue eyes darted to Ava’s desk, and a suspicious smile crossed her friend’s freckled face. Leaning forward, Katie shoved aside the mountain of busywork and plucked up the color brochure. “Ah-ha.”
“Hey…” Ava grabbed for it, but Katie was too fast.
“What have we got—” Her words halted as her eyes took in the tantalizing photos and descriptions. “An adults-only, all-inclusive erotic vacation destination on the Mexican Riviera?” Her gaze shot to Ava’s. “Is this for real?”
Ava wanted to chastise her friend’s disbelief. But the truth was even this tiny show of doubt made Ava second-, third-, and fourth-guess the whole idea.
“Don’t look at me like that.” Ava shut down her computer and closed the lid.
“Like what? Like I’m ferreting out an alien takeover of my very best friend?”
Ava was both amused and frustrated with Katie’s accuracy. “Shut up.”
“Okay. I’ll shut up, and you talk.” She laid the brochure on Ava’s desk and flattened her hand over the images of paradise. “Because I’ve never heard you even hint at interest in anything like this.”
Ava straightened her spine. “I think it’s time I did.”
“Catering to guests who prefer clothing-optional spaces, sex-club-level entertainment, a hedonistic all-inclusive gourmet menu?” She looked at Ava. “For a woman who doesn’t like the way her perfect body looks in a bikini? A woman who exercises obsessively to control said perfect body? A woman who doesn’t even know what happens at a sex club? A woman who hits four different grocery stores to shop organically?”
There was only one of those statements Ava could challenge. “My body’s not perfect, which is why I eat organically and exercise—”
“Sex toys available,” Katie continued reading, crossing her legs and swinging one sex-kitten pump. “Along with willing participants for group sexual adventures at an additional cost? To my knowledge, you’ve never even used a sex toy.”
“I’m almost thirty.” Ava’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I think it’s about time I checked out sex toys.”
Instead of giving Ava the spirited approval she expected, Katie tilted her head and asked, “Why? Because you’re interested or because Matthew is?”
“What difference—”
“And why would you ever consider a place like this for your honeymoon? You’re supposed to be relaxing and decompressing from the wedding and work, not getting all stressed out about sex toys and your birthday suit. Definitely not sharing your new husband with ‘willing participants’ in group sex adventures.”
“It also says all activities are optional,” Ava pointed out. “And that couples who prefer to remain monogamous and quiet are also welcome.”
“Quite the consolation.” Katie shifted in the chair and slung one toned arm over the back. “Matthew’s pressuring you for something kinky again, isn’t he?”
“No.” It was only a half lie. He wasn’t pressuring her for this particular trip, but he’d been hinting and pushing for months. Ava slid her laptop into her briefcase. “I just wanted to do something to surprise him. And maybe I’m ready to check out some of these things too.” She plucked the brochure from Katie’s hand and dropped it into a file folder with more information about the club. “Maybe that kind of environment would help me open up.”
“You’re a warm, giving, fun-loving person,” Katie said, then gestured to the room, indicating the office and the company beyond. “This place and these heavy-handed, know-it-all men you work with are what stifle you. I’ve always believed you’d open up in the bedroom with the right man.”
“I wouldn’t be marrying Matthew if he wasn’t the right man.”
“You work too damn hard at this relationship.”
“Relationships take work.”
“From both parties,” Katie countered. “You’re the only one I see working.”
Katie nailed one of Ava’s most prevalent underlying frustrations about her relationship with Matthew—she always felt like she worked harder. Like she made all the concessions. Like she could never quite please him. But she also knew Katie was envious. She’d been hopping from man to man, dissatisfied, for years. Matthew might not be perfect, but he was handsome, intelligent, and charming. And Ava and Matthew had common goals and dreams.
“It’s hard to have a relationship when you work together,” she told Katie. “Especially when work is so stressful.”
“For both of you. Which is my point about you doing all the work in the relationship.”
Familiar and uncomfortable doubts crept into Ava’s gut. She exhaled heavily, frustrated with her friend’s lack of support. Even more frustrated Ava bought into Katie’s doubt.
“Okay, okay.” Katie put her hands up. “Go for it if that’s what you want. Far be it from me to trample your awesome sexuality. God knows I’ve tried to liberate you for years. If this is how you want to do it, Godspeed.” She stood and slung her purse strap over her shoulder. “I really need a drink. You coming?”
Ava was too wound up to go out. She needed to take this step. Get the hard part out of the way so she could look forward. “You go without me. I’m going to talk with Matthew while it’s quiet.”
“Let me know how that conversation goes.” With a finger wave, Katie breezed out of the office, leaving Ava alone with her brochure and her doubts.
She blew out a breath and splayed her hands over the folder. Her engagement
ring sparkled and glinted. Marriage was about give and take. Compromises. Communication. Cooperation. It was about knowing the other person inside and out. That wouldn’t happen unless she opened up to Matthew. Maybe even to herself.
She flipped the folder open and scanned the brochure again. The stunning pictures and tantalizing descriptions set off a spark deep in her body. The kind that had never materialized for her in the bedroom. She wanted it. Wanted to bridge this gap between what she was comfortable with and what Matthew wanted. Sure, she was apprehensive. But that was what growth was about—feeling the fear and doing it anyway.
Eighty percent of what the resort offered, Ava would never participate in. But where sex was concerned, she’d admit to being curious enough to taste-test a few flavors beyond vanilla.
She took a deep breath to quell the nerves. Yes, she was going to stretch herself. Matthew was going to be thrilled with this news. And it would be really good for both of them. They deserved a white-sand-beaches-and-sparkling-Pacific-waters break.
As her father neared retirement, Ava had been working her ever-loving ass off to pull everything together into a nice, neat bow—partially to show him she could handle the job of COO, but also to give her father peace of mind moving on.
Before she could twist all her thoughts the opposite direction, Ava exited her office and crossed the sea of cubicles filling the ninth floor at Jennings Steel on the way to Matthew. Outside, night pressed against the glass. The jitter in Ava’s stomach told her she was outside her comfort zone, but she had to admit, she was ready for a hotter spark in the bedroom as well—especially when she thought of spending forever with that one man.
File folder clutched between her fingers, Ava turned the last corner toward Matthew’s office and ran right into her father. She gasped and put a hand out at the same time her father caught her arms.
“Oh, Dad. You scared me.”
“Sorry about that.” He released her and stepped back. “You’re here late.”
When his gaze dropped to the file folder in her hands, Ava’s face burned with the mere knowledge of what lay inside. If Matthew jumped at this opportunity the way she expected him to, they would have to lie to her parents about where they were taking their honeymoon.
“You’re flushed,” her father said. “Are you getting sick?”
“I’m fine.”
“If you’re sick, don’t bring it to the office. Work from home.”
Ava’s shoulders dropped. It would have been nice to hear concern for her, not the rest of the employees. “I’m not sick, Dad.”
He nodded. “Your mother and I are having dinner at the Oasis with the Wilkinsons. You’re welcome to join us.”
And talk shop all night? No thank you. “Maybe another time. I’m pretty tired.”
“I know Matthew’s been keeping crazy hours to get caught up before you two tie the knot and leave for the honeymoon.”
Matthew? Hardly. This was the first night he’d stayed late in months. He was usually passed out in bed by the time Ava got home.
“I’m just going to leave this report on the Cutters Island project with him and head home.”
He nodded. “Get some rest, and if you’re sick—”
“Don’t bring it to the office. I heard you.” She continued through the open and empty cubicle area, rolling her eyes at her father’s all-business attitude. If she were honest, she was looking forward to his retirement. Her brothers could be bullheaded, but they weren’t as dry as their dad.
Ava paused five feet from Matthew’s closed office door and opened the file. A sexual playground for their honeymoon. Once she showed interest in this, there would be no going back. The thought both thrilled and scared her. But she wanted to make Matthew happy, and she wanted a good marriage. She also really wanted to come out of her shell a little and recognized she needed help doing it.
Matthew’s familiar muffled voice touched her ear from behind the door, and she smiled with anticipation of his excitement over the idea.
She took a breath, knocked softly, then opened the door. She walked in with a ready smile, expecting to find him on the phone. But he was sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his chair. His gaze zeroed in on her with a mixture of surprise and frustration. His tie sat in a neat roll on the side of his desk, the top button of his shirt unfastened.
“Ava.” He sat forward, resting his forearms on his blotter. “I thought you left hours ago.”
“I was going to. Then I got caught up. You know how time flies around here.” A quick scan of his office revealed he was alone. But his face was flushed, his breathing ragged, his pupils dilated. A mix of concern and unease niggled in her gut. “Are you talking to yourself again?”
He grinned, clasping his hands and resting his chin there. “It’s where I get my best ideas.”
“Well, I have what I think is a great idea.” She strolled toward him. “And I wanted to put it past you.”
“Uh, yeah.” He dropped his hands to the slew of documents askew on his desk. “Well, I’m kind of in the middle of something. Can we talk about it tonight when I get home?”
Oh no. By the time he got home, Ava would have lost her nerve and shredded the brochure.
“It will only take a minute.” She laid the folder on his desk, planted her hands, and leaned forward. Just as she’d expected, his gaze lowered to the cleavage exposed in the V of her blouse. “I’ll give you the elevator pitch and leave you with the information.”
She took a breath to deliver the spiel and caught the scent of perfume. A warm, sultry scent lingering in the air. And it wasn’t the whiff of powder his secretary wore.
That niggling unease deepened into an uncomfortable gnaw.
Just nerves.
She straightened and slowly rounded his desk. “You know how we’d planned on Bali for the honeymoon?”
“S-sure.”
The hiccup in his voice made her study him harder. He was definitely distracted. That perfume was definitely holding strong. And at eight p.m., with the office empty, Ava couldn’t imagine…
Her gaze jumped to the way he was tucked tightly beneath his desk. She glanced at his computer screen—catching him watching porn would have been the lesser of two evils. But his screen was covered with architectural drawings.
A dark rivulet of suspicion opened in her chest. A familiar inkling she recognized from the past, but one that had never been founded. An insecurity that had prompted her to go out on a limb and research this honeymoon spot.
She eased her ass to the desktop. His eyes grew round. Sweat glistened on his brow. And Ava had the sinking feeling she was about to become a pathetic cliché.
“Look,” he said, “I’m supposed to be on an overseas conference call, like, two minutes ago. I really can’t talk about this—”
“With who?” she asked.
“Ah, um, Helmut.”
Her brows shot up. “About Duke Tower?”
“Yes. About Duke Tower.” He gestured to his landline. “Please go, Ava. I need to get on the phone.”
Anger and sickness roiled in the pit of her stomach. “Really.” She crossed her arms and stared down at him. “You’re going to get on the phone with Helmut at two a.m. on a Saturday.”
“No.” His brow wrinkled in confusion and frustration. “Wait, what?”
“It’s eight p.m. Friday night in New York,” she explained. “Which makes it two a.m. Saturday morning in Amsterdam.”
“Whatever.” The bite in his voice added the fuel of hurt to her anger. “Just let me get my work done. We can talk at home.”
She didn’t move. Couldn’t move. She was cemented in place, her heart as heavy as concrete. The sting of encroaching tears tingled across the bridge of her nose, and Ava scraped her lower lip through her teeth.
“That would be hard to do if you didn’t live at my apartment anymore,” she said. “Wouldn’t it?”
Matthew dropped his hands to his desktop with a thud and turned a scowl on her. “You’re
not making any sense again. I swear this wedding bullshit has your head up your ass.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re the one with your head up your ass.”
She pressed the toe of one high heel to his seat and shoved, rolling his chair away from the desk. Her gaze fell to his lap, where she found exactly what she feared: his dress pants bunched around his thighs and his erection standing straight up. “And, evidently, your cock is also in someone else’s mouth.”
“Jesus Christ,” Matthew bit out. He stood, turning his back on her and jerking his pants up while he stuffed himself back behind his zipper. “You have no right to come in here…”
Ava didn’t hear any more of his rant. She felt suddenly nauseated. And numb. A numbness that coated the painful emotions erupting through her chest, but underneath, she was furious, disgusted, ashamed. She straightened, stepped away from the desk, and shouted over Matthew’s tirade. “Come out.”
“Ava, knock it off.” Matthew swung back toward her. “Get out, go home, and we’ll handle this—”
“Right now.” Her spine turned to steel. “We’ll handle this right fucking now.” She looked at the floor again. “Come out from under the desk. Now. If you make me drag you out, I swear to God you’ll regret it.”
The shuffle of movement sounded before a brunette popped her head out from the shadows. Another project manager in her department. One of Matthew’s employees. A girl Ava liked.
Pain sliced beneath her ribs. “Beth,” she said with disgust. “Really.”
Beth licked her lips and scuttled from beneath the desk, buttoning her blouse and straightening her skirt.
This was one of those moments when Ava wished she had the golden tongue. Wished she could spew everything she wanted to say, everything that needed to be said, all at once with eloquence and passion and persuasion. But she was so furious, so degraded, she could only clench her teeth.
